Of Roses and Blood Stains
by Rishim
Summary: It’s just another job for Brandon and his team, but that doesn’t keep questions from being asked, if only in the silence of their minds.


Title: Of Roses and Blood Stains  
Author: Z Toft  
Pairing: Brandon Heat and Bunji Kugashira  
Fandom: Gungrave  
Theme #21:Violence/extortion and #19:Red  
Disclaimer: Heat and Kugashia are from the inventive mind of Yasuhiro Nightow and I am not him(at least last I knew.)

Rating: R(Violence)

Summary: It's just another job for Brandon and his team, but that doesn't keep questions from being asked, if only in the silence of their minds.

_Why do I do this? Why is it always like this? Is this really what I want to do with my life? _

Brandon Heat stared down the length of his gun at the trembling executive that stood before him. The "True Graves" stood to his sides, their guns leveled at the rest of the few people in the room, including one sobbing secretary, claiming she had no idea what was going on. As always they cried and shook and begged not to be shot, as always they asked for explanations, for reasons. Brandon did not have any for them, he never did. So he just stood there, his face an impassive mask while thoughts of how and why danced through his mind, just like always.

One of the people feel to their knees and they crawled up to Heat and clung to the leg of his pants lightly, gazing up at him with eyes filled with terror, begging and pleading and screaming. Brandon shifted the aim of his gun to rest on the man's head, a small frown playing over his lips. "Get off.." Of course the man didn't listen, they never did. He would have sighed, maybe even kicked the man away from him, but instead he simply tightened his finger on the trigger and watched calmly as the bullet ripped into the man's flesh and he fell dead at Brandon's feet, splattering blood on his suit.

This was the unspoken "go ahead" for the rest of his team to do their job and as Brandon re-aimed to take a few shots, his team let their bullets fly as well and soon most of the occupants of the room were sprawled across the floor, dripping blood onto the carpet. A red carpet Brandon noticed, so at least the crimson blood wouldn't stain too much. He knelt down and picked a rose from the lapel of one of the men, brining it up to his face and inhaling its scent.

He tossed it to Bunji, who caught it with a jaunty grin and brushed his lips lightly over the petals. "How very perfect, I have a date tonight." He chuckled to himself softly and tucked it carefully into his jacket pocket, picking over the bodies to stand at Brandon's side. His eyes feel quietly on the one man left alive in the room, shaking as he cowered behind his desk, a red handkerchief clutched in one hand as he sobbed loudly about how he'd do "anything" if they would only spare him. Bunji snorted and spat off to the side. "Fucking pathetic, eh bro?" He shook his head, setting his guns away after making a quick check on them. "They always do this, it's just sad."

Brandon shifted his gaze from the man to Bunji and he inclined his head in a slight nod and said softly. "Yes, it is." And with his friend on that point he did agree, in fact he even got a bit tired of it at times, how things were always the same. He shifted his gaze back to the man, pushing his glasses up slightly and crossing the room to his desk, where he knelt and tugged the red handkerchief from the man's fingers, using it to wipe a bit of the blood off his pants. "You know why we are here." And of course, the man nodded, spouting off about how Millennion could have whatever they wanted and so on and so forth. Little things that bored Brandon, things he hated the most about being a sweeper, but it wasn't his job to deal with. He simply stood, made a motion to his team and wandered out.

Bunji followed along at Brandon's side, watching the man quietly. He often wondered what made a person like Heat do what he did, he was so quiet, so kind to everyone. But here he was, the top sweeper for the whole family, and to him it just didn't make any damn sense. For Bunji killing people had been a way of life for as long as he could remember and he was comfortable with it, he didn't think much about it anymore, he just..pulled the trigger. But he knew it couldn't be like that for the other man, it just couldn't.

He plucked the handkerchief from the other's fingers, and held it up to the sunlight with a thoughtful sort of eye. "Hey, this aint bad, bro. Looks like silk, ya know? Wash it up and maybe you could give it somebody, like you know..a girl?" He enjoyed teasing Heat, in fact he was one of the few people that might dare to do so. It was fun to see how the other man always winced when he brought up women, that was part of what convinced him that Brandon must have somebody, even if he wasn't going to tell anybody who. He shrugged a bit as Brandon ignored him and tucked the bright red piece of silk into his collar, letting it add a kiss of color to an otherwise very bland outfit.

Brandon glanced over to the bright spot of red on Bunji's shirt and laughed slightly, shaking his head a bit. "Good luck." Was all he said, as he and his team prepared for their next sweep. They lounged about, talking, reloading and laughing, like the bloody and violent job they did was the farthest thing from their mind. Of course it had to be, or you'd go insane, you really would.

And so it went, they burst into another building in the quiet of a late afternoon, shots fired, people falling dead at their feet, at times people managed to shoot back and short exchanges of bullets were shared before Heat's team as always emerged victorious and another company swore it's-self to the Organization. Death and extortion in the name of "The Family." It was just another day..

And still, as both Kugashira and Heat went about, sometimes they both had to wonder why, but for different reasons. Bunji's wonder, why he was made late for his date, and she wasn't happy about it either. Women were so picky, it was so goddamn annoying! Bunji pulled the rose from his pocket and contemplated it for a moment, before he tossed it to the ground and crushed it under his shoe, grinding the petals into the pavement before he walked away, leaving the crimson remains on the sidewalk..


End file.
